


all those dark and frantic

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [30]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fisting, Daddy Kink, Discipline, Dominance, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Past Underage Sex, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Submission, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Freddie tells Ephram something he'd forgotten to mention, something important enough to spur them into talking about Freddie at seventeen, and what his relationship with Martin Adjaye had been like, the psychological legacy the abuse had left. Ephram does his damnedest to show Freddie that he's worth something, and loved, and wanted, and does it the best way he knows how. Which involves a sling made of magic and a pushing of boundaries.
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673
Kudos: 1





	all those dark and frantic

**Author's Note:**

> >   
>  Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Ephram’s truck was already parked in the drive when Freddie and Ollie climbed out of their taxi, two bags of dinner-related shopping in tow, a light drizzle falling - and when the fairy finally shouldered the front door open, kicking off his chelsea boots haphazardly, his socks leaving damp footprints on the floor behind him as they made their way into the kitchen, he called, “Sorry I’m late, darling. I only just realised when I left the inn that, since I’ve been inside this week, we were running a bit low on options for dinner - so I did a bit of a shop on my way home.”

He set his bags on the counter, still talking to his as-yet invisible husband as Ollie loped off to the living room. “I hope you don’t mind if everything’s a bit simple tonight…”

The fairy headed upstairs to change his clothes, already unbuttoning his shirt as he went and gingerly touching the nipple clamps still attached to his chest with a bit of a wince. “Where are you, love?” he called, stepping through the bedroom door. Shedding articles of clothes carelessly as he hunted for something comfortable, Freddie finally hauled out a pair of Phillip Lim trackies and tossed them on the bed, wondering if he even had a t-shirt loose enough to accommodate the apparatus attached to his tits.

“Ephram?” he called again, pulling the trousers on, grabbing a shirt, and heading barefoot back downstairs, “I’ve got to talk to you, sweetheart… If you can hear me, meet me in the kitchen, yeah?”

There was a nervous twist in Freddie’s stomach, a little flutter of worry that Ephram would be upset with him for forgetting to tell him about the text to Martin sooner - but unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it now. All he could do was to tell his witch what had happened and why, explain the delay, and apologise.

And then Martin flaming Adjaye could sod off, once and for all.

Ephram could certainly hear Freddie come in and move around in the house, calling more faintly from downstairs and then his voice getting closer as he went to change his clothes. He liked it, the sound of his fairy comfortable in the house knowing that there was somebody there who loved him, who he could come home to.

Although Ephram couldn’t answer Freddie quite yet from where he was, up in the attic where he’d constructed a makeshift warming pen for a clutch of baby birds that were little more than balls of down with tiny beaks. They were adorable as babies and they’d be adorable when they were grown-up purple blinkerbirds, teetering on long skinny legs, but at the moment they were bits of fluff that would scream bloody murder if you so much as whispered in their presence.

Finishing up with feeding the blinkerbirds, Ephram left the attic and padded downstairs, putting Freddie’s boots away and wandering into the kitchen where he’d been bid. “You in a rush, darlin’?” He took a peek at the bags Freddie’d brought in, the items doing not much to tell him what would be for supper, and then turned his attention to his husband.

“Mmmmm, there’s my good boy,” Ephram hummed as he wrapped his arms around Freddie, chest pressed against Freddie’s broad back. “You kept em on like you was told.” He slid his hands up under Freddie’s shirt, cool fingers undoing the nipple clamps as Ephram pressed little kisses along the shell of Freddie’s ear. “You have a hard time of it?”

Freddie, who’d been hunting for the saucepan he wanted when Ephram came in, smiled when he heard his husband’s voice, turning his back on the rack altogether, and collecting the pan in question from a drawer instead. “Not a rush, exactly, no,” he chuckled, “I just thought you might be hungry, love. Or did you eat one of those awful fluff things once you got home?”

“Either way, it’s red curry tonight. Does that suit?” the fairy asked, turning on the hob.

But then Ephram’s arms were around him, and Freddie sighed happily, leaning back against his witch’s chest - only to have his breath catch again as Ephram’s hands made their way up under his shirt, finally freeing him from the clamps he’d been wearing all day. “Course I kept them on,” he murmured, tilting his head and letting his eyes drift closed, letting out a soft rumble of appreciation for both the kisses to his ear and the relief given his poor abused nipples. “Taking them off would have been disobedient.”

“I did have a bit of a hard time though, yeah,” he laughed softly, turning in Ephram’s arms to face him. “I had to dangle Iann down a vent this afternoon - which reminds me, I’ve got a present for you back at the inn, darling - and that sort of thing is just a little uncomfortable when you’ve got some of your sensitive bits trapped in a vise.”

“I was good as a goose, didn’t eat nothin’ except one’a them crackers-and-cheese things was in the car. The ones with the red stick for the cheese, you know em?” Ephram didn’t really expect that Freddie would, although imagining his husband eating something so thoroughly processed did entertain him. “Red curry’s great,” he said amenably, but his appetite flared in a different direction when Freddie dutifully related what his day had been like trapped in the nipple clamps. “And it’s good you was uncomfortable, kitten, seeing as that was the point.”

Pushing up on his toes, Freddie kissed Ephram’s mouth for a long moment, holding his husband’s face in his hands - then let him go again, settling down and taking a deep breath. “But before I get into all that, there’s something I’ve got to tell you, love, and I hope you won’t be upset with me - I got a bit turned around and thought I’d already told you, which is why you’re hearing about it so much after the fact - but…” Freddie bit his lip. “Do you remember that number that Iann and I were given in London? The in-case-of-emergency one? Well… when Iann was missing… I- I used it.”

“Nothing came of it,” he went on, “I got a reply that day denying any involvement and saying he’d look into it - but that’s all. Only I should have told you at the time, and in the midst of everything crashing apart with Ruby, and my being at the inn, and your collecting me home again, I didn’t realise that I’d never actually ended up saying anything about it until today. And I’m sorry for that, sweetheart. I never intended to keep it to myself.”

Freddie looked up at Ephram, worry in his eyes. “Are you upset with me?”

At first, Ephram thought it was probably going to be a confession of something frivolous, something Freddie’d gone out and bought or arranged with the intention of Ephram getting on board with it once it had already been done. But as his fairy kept talking, voice and mannerisms growing more hesitant, Ephram felt that warm glow in his belly go flat cold. Some of that was lingering jealous rage at Iann for prompting such a foolhardy move on Freddie’s part (however unwillingly), but the rest of it was … complicated. And ugly.

“I dunno, Freddie,” Ephram said, noting the worry on Freddie’s face but feeling no answering twinge of soft-hearted reason. “Cardero disappears like he’s done a million times before, the way he does like it's a standing engagement, and your first move is to contact fuckin' _Martin Adjaye_ for help. For _help_.” The roughness of Ephram’s voice kept pace as his eyes grew more stormy, dark and angry. “Despite what he done to you, tortured and terrorized you, made you live in fear. But you was too busy running away from me to sulk and pout in Cardero’s bed to tell me bout it, until now. What, did you only just remember me? Adjaye coulda come round anytime here to fuck with you and Iann Cardero'd be the only one would be expecting it, not me at all? Freddie? Is that how it went down in your head? _Should I be fuckin upset_?”

His voice had risen to a roar by that point, and Ephram swiveled and slammed his fist into one of the cabinet doors. His hand would have gone through the wall had he hit that, but as it was the wood only impassively burst his knuckles. Another blow followed, another, and then Ephram sagged against the cabinets, forehead pressed to the door as blood dripped from his smashed hand and he tried to regroup, get his mind working again past the blinding burst of hurt, worried rage.

“I can't talk in here,” he said thickly. “C’mon. Come outside. I can't breathe in here.” Ephram went out the backdoor to stand barefoot in the cold grass, shoving his hands through his hair as he looked out towards the water.

Freddie watched as Ephram’s anger gathered in his eyes, hating himself for bringing them here again. For being the cause of yet another problem, another argument. For putting Ephram through so much emotional upheaval when that was the last thing he ever wanted to do. And he opened his mouth to say no, that contacting Ephram had been his first move. That the first person he ever went to when he needed help, when he was hurt or frightened or desperate, was always always Ephram…

But as his witch went on, gathering volume and rage with every word, each fresh recrimination making Freddie flinch slightly, the fairy stayed silent, deciding it was better to let Ephram get out what he needed to. To wait until he was through before attempting to explain or defend himself.

If such a thing were even possible.

It was only when Ephram implied that he hadn’t been important enough to remember, that somehow this mistake was reflective of something deeper, that Freddie’s head shot up again. “That isn’t what happened!” he cried. “It was a _mistake_ , Ephram. A mistake that I’m sorry for! But that’s all it was. I didn’t tell you, I didn’t tell Iann… I didn’t tell anyone! I don’t even know why. It just… it got pushed out of the way, love. Because more important things were going on. Things between us.”

“Ephram, please-”

Only Freddie never finished his thought because suddenly his husband was battering the kitchen cabinets into splinters, and all the fairy could do was stare at him in frozen horror until the sight of Ephram’s bloody knuckles shocked him back to functionality. “Stop it,” he croaked in a strangled voice, eyes red as he gaped at the violence in front of him. “Ephram, STOP IT!”

And Ollie, who had joined them by now, having torn in from the living room to place himself between his fairy and the man he considered his great friend, began to bark with a ferocity that left him frothing.

When Ephram did finally stop after what felt like an eternity, Freddie had no idea if he was even aware that Freddie had spoken at all. He just went still for a moment, sagging like a broken toy, and then announced that he couldn’t talk where they were, and instructed Freddie to follow him out into the drizzling dark.

Which - after a long moment of staring at the bloody wood, feeling shellshocked and shaking slightly - the fairy did, his familiar at his side.

It was cold and wet, and Freddie walked over to where Ephram stood, stopping beside him, and allowing a slow silent minute to pass before saying quietly, “You’re bleeding. I’d like to fix it, if you’ll let me.”

The small flare of a cigarette catching the flame briefly lit Ephram’s face as he took in a long drag, holding out his hand for a moment to assess the state of it. “Nah, fuck it,” he decided. “Helps me think. Without getting carried away and doing … crazy shit.”

He put an arm around Freddie, squeezing him close and kissing that soft, mink-brown hair before letting go, giving Ollie a nod of acknowledgement and apology. “Didn’t mean to lose it in there,” Ephram said tightly, making it clear that he was still very upset. “Couldn’t help myself. If I think on it too much I might start to come around again to it being a reasonable reaction though, so let’s not dwell.”

“I hate it when you do that,” Freddie said softly, comforted by Ephram’s touch when it came and opening himself to it despite the lingering shock of what had happened in their kitchen. “I hate it when you hurt yourself.”

“I know why you do,” he went on, “Intellectually, at least. As much as I can. But I hate it all the same. And you promised me you wouldn’t, Ephram.” The fairy sighed. “I know I’m in no position to be throwing stones or making demands at the moment, but you did.”

He took Ephram’s bloodied hand and kissed his witch’s rapidly swelling knuckles. “Please don’t do it again.”

Ephram’s cigarette sizzled faintly as a raindrop hit it but wasn’t enough to extinguish the glowing red. “You need to tell me,” he said, taking back his hand and rubbing bloody knuckles along the bearded line of his jaw. “You know I ain’t never tried to put no limits on you, other’n to make sure you know you’re loved and you’re mine–” Ephram reached over to touch Freddie’s collar with two fingertips, “–but if you need more freedom than what I understand, you gotta tell me. So’s I don’t get blindsided like this. Expecting that you’ll tell me everything important that's going on for you, when it happens, not later like an afterthought.”

He inhaled another lungful of smoke, saying, “If that’s what you want, honey, let me know. If … if Martin Adjaye’s what you want, let me know.” Ephram turned to face Freddie, loathe to deliver that kind of statement without looking at his husband. “I don’t -- I'm not thinking you’re gonna hup and leave me for Adjaye, nothin’ like that. But I wanna ….” Ephram turned his face up to the rain, closing his eyes. “I need to know what sorter clutch that man’s got on you, baby. And if you still want him – if your _body_ still wants him – or if it’s your mind, too.”

Freddie felt his heart clench as Ephram went on, asking him if he needed more freedom, if _Martin_ was something that he wanted, and he reached for his husband’s shirt, bunching it in his fists because he needed to hold onto something, needed to keep Ephram close. “The last thing in the world that I want,” Freddie said, his eyes gazing steadily into his Ephram’s, holding them, his voice serious and low, “-is any more freedom from you. I want _this_. I want to be here, and to be yours, and to know that you’ve always got a good tight grip on me. I’ve been free my whole life, love - what I want now is to belong to you. Body and soul.”

“And I’m so so sorry that that I didn’t tell you sooner what I’d done, sweetheart - but I never intended to keep it from you. I genuinely believed that I’d told you already - until I realised that I hadn’t. Which is why I’m saying it now, love; why I needed to get it out before we could do anything else. It was a mistake, Ephram. A stupid terrible mistake.”

Freddie’s voice wobbled. “And it scares me that your first thought when I make one is that I must love you less than I do. Less than you know that I do.”

“I don’t want Martin,” he said firmly. Certainly. “I want you.” Reaching up, he took Ephram’s upturned face in his hands, drawing him down to look at him again. “ _You_ ,” the fairy repeated. “Only you. And I want you to know everything there is to know about me - what I think and feel about everything. Including him. I’ll turn myself inside out if that’s what it takes…”

Freddie took a breath, shivering slightly in the cold, his wings beginning to ache with it, though they were folded tightly against his back under his t-shirt. “I just… Nothing about Martin is simple for me, darling,” he said, “It never has been. But I think…”

“…I think you’re the only one who might ever be able to understand what it’s like.”

A noncommittal rumble was all Ephram offered in response to Freddie’s plea for him not to bust himself up anymore; he had no real intention of chasing down any hurt, but God Almighty it had felt good to smash his fist into the wood till it splintered. He was still thinking on it, flexing his hands to feel the cuts split open again, when Freddie grabbed onto his shirt. Telling Ephram things that he already knew but was thirsty to hear, delivered in Freddie’s impassioned and beloved voice.

“Freddie,” Ephram said, an almost smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, “if you reckon that’s my first thought when you make a mistake, is that you love me less, then by this point I’d be certain you only love me as much as you love Fendi.” He lifted a thumb to flick water from below one of Freddie’s eyes, sucking the rain idly from the pad of his finger afterwards. “I don’t think you love me less, I’d never think that. You make sure I know every single day how you feel about me.”

All the same, it made Ephram’s heart beat faster to hear Freddie tell him _i want you_ ; that he’d been free for too much of his life and saw being owned and protected by Ephram as a desirable stop to all that.

Sighing as he pitched the end of his cigarette out into the yard, Ephram slid an arm around Freddie and said, “Look, honey, it ain’t even so much that you forgot to tell me bout what you did, it’s that – Jesus Christ!” He hugged Freddie closer, alarmed, and said, “You’re fuckin’ freezing! C’mon, let’s go back inside to do this. I feel a mite calmer now but I ain’t done wanting to talk yet.”

Ephram hustled Freddie back inside the house, half lifting him at times to move faster. He turned on the fireplace and turned up the heating, stripping Freddie of his soaked-through clothes and wrapping him in one of the many, many blankets they kept around. Doing the same for himself, Ephram sat on the opposite side of the couch from Freddie, stretching his legs along it so their calves and feet pleated against each other.

“It’s that it was Adjaye.” Ephram was glad for the little bit of room between them; giving Freddie a modicum of space seemed appropriate for the subject. Physical space, at least; Ephram didn’t give or ask quarter when he felt something needed to be talked about. “That he’s your Hail Mary. That you honestly thought he would help you.” Ephram leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “I mean, honey – you ain’t the type to keep secrets, I know that. So why d’you think when it comes to Martin Adjaye, you blanked on tellin’ me bout it?”

Relieved to hear that, despite his anger, Ephram had no doubts when it came to the depth and the breadth of Freddie’s devotion, the fairy chose not to linger on the fact that apparently his missteps in their relationship were more frequent than he’d thought. Instead, he cuddled closer when Ephram’s arm drew him in again, grateful for everything that they shared. For the foundations they’d built, lovingly and painstakingly.

It was in his nature to fear the worst when it came to love - but because of Ephram, he was learning to overcome those faulty instincts. To take a breath and trust in the strength of what they had. To grow up, and leave the wretched boy he’d been behind.

Which wasn’t easy.

But it was coming. Slowly, but surely.

So he let Ephram bundle him back inside, Ollie keeping pace. Let his husband strip him down and make him comfortable, wanting to curl up in his lap, but understanding that that wasn’t what the situation called for. And once Ephram had explained the specifics of his upset, what it was that had made him need to express himself so violently, the fairy drew in a breath, fidgeting unconsciously with the edge of one of his blankets, and said quietly, “That’s where you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, love. I didn’t text him appealing for help-” Freddie shook his head, “- not like that.”

“I texted him because I thought he might be responsible. And I thought that if I knew even that much, I’d have a better chance at getting Iann back again. That at least I’d know where to start.”

“And when it comes to telling you about it…” Freddie sighed, still fussing with the blanket, worrying it between his fingers as Ollie hopped up beside him for moral support, “-the easy answer is what I’ve already said. Which isn’t untrue, in and of itself. I mean, we’ve had a lot of upheavals between then and now, sweetheart - and to me, anything that’s got to do with you will always take precedence over anything and everything else.”

“But I suppose the other part…” the fairy bit at his lip again, “-is that I try not to think about Martin. He’s something I’ve actively sought to repress for the past 23 years - and I’m very good at it. For the most part…”

“Because when I _have_ to think about him,” he went on, his voice low and getting rough with shame, “-I have to think about _all_ of it. It’s all twisted up together. And I…” Freddie trailed off, took a breath, and then started again. “There’s no one in the world that frightens me more than Martin does, love. He did things to me, hurt me, in ways that still make me want to shake out of my skin. But… before that… he was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me.”

The fairy paused, his voice strained. “And it makes me sick that I can’t separate the two. Because I don’t want him anywhere near me, Ephram. I don’t want his help, or his attention.” Another pause. “But there’s a weak disgusting part of me that wants him to have loved me like he said that he did.”

“Not now,” Freddie clarified, “-but _then_.”

“And I suppose maybe… on some level… not telling you about the text saved me from having to acknowledge that.”

“You know just as well as I do,” Ephram said, reaching one long arm out so he could wrap his hand over top of Freddie’s foot, squeezing it, “how fucked up things can get in your head when you’re tryin’ to find some semblance of control in the middle of being vulnerable as all hell.” The way Freddie was talking sounded like when thick ice broke on a lake; jagged points sticking up this way and that, pointing in different directions like stiff fingers. A dozen seemingly contradicting feelings that only ended up leaving a freezing, bottomless hole between them.

“It ain’t weak to have … Freddie, honey. You were just a _baby_ and all by yourself in the world. Why wouldn’t you get drawn in by a handsome man, especially a rich older vampire who could show you off like a jewel and then put you back in his pocket to keep safe?” Ephram rubbed his thumb slowly between the bones of Freddie’s foot, soothing him as they waded into the morass of Martin Adjaye. “Even if it was all lies, there was a version of him that you loved. Maybe still _do_ love in a way – and that’s fine, baby, if you do.”

He tacked on the last part quickly, before Freddie could protest; if his fairy wanted to object, he could, but Ephram wanted at least to have that said out loud. That it wasn’t shameful to still love somebody who’d caused Freddie so much pain, abused him with such profound malice when he was young and innocent. He would’ve said the same thing to Ruby, if she’d had feelings for David Johnson lingering around. He said the same thing to himself about Otis Jenkins, although that wasn’t … about love. But anyhow.

“You can tell me anything bout Martin Adjaye, Freddie, and it won’t make me think of you as disgusting or sick, nothin’ like that ever, you hear me? I know who you are and it ain’t what Adjaye made you feel you are, in the end.” Ephram stopped moving his hand, instead wrapping it around Freddie’s ankle. It felt like anchoring both of them, in preparation for a plunge into dark waters. “The reason I got so upset, how you called him for help? Well, honey – I know you say it was for information, but in my books that still counts as help. Calling on Martin Adjaye for any reason after how he butchered you is calling on him for help in a broad sense of it.”

Ephram felt a vile bubbling in his chest at the thought of it, rage over this monster that had taken such complete and harrowing advantage of Freddie being a lonely, love-starved boy. But he kept his voice level. Twenty-three years of silence was a long time for any of Freddie’s feelings about Adjaye to freeze up, and Ephram had no intention of interrupting the thaw.

Freddie offered his husband the ghost of a smile when Ephram’s big hand settled on top of his foot, everything always seeming a bit easier to manage when he could feel his witch’s touch. “But that sort of control is how I’ve lived, sweetheart,” the fairy sighed. “It’s my life’s bloody work. A place for everything, and everything in its place, yeah?”

He huffed out a weak sort of chuckle. “Mary Poppins had to be a fairy, don’t you think?”

But he frowned, lifting his left thumb briefly to his mouth to chew at his cuticle, when Ephram attempted to absolve him of his shame and confusion, of the weakness that made him sick to his stomach. “I don’t fault myself for how I felt about him then,” Freddie said quietly, eyes down as he spoke, the words coming slowly. “I… I was never in _love_ with Martin - there was something too… untouchable about him; too far removed. I mean, he was almost mythic to me… this force. This incredible powerful man that actually wanted me to be _his_ … that made me his…”

“I was in awe of him. I adored him. And I suppose, in retrospect, that means that I must have loved him - as much as I was able without any understanding of what that meant. I certainly never wanted him to stop telling me how wonderful I was… Never wanted him to look at anyone else the way he looked at me…”

“I honestly thought I had him wrapped round my little finger,” Freddie went on, his voice low, “That I could keep him for as long as I wanted him, no matter what I did. That that was what love meant.”

“I thought that when someone loved you, they would never ever do anything to hurt you…”

The fairy trailed off, snorting softly at his own naivete. “Only he’d planned to hurt me straight from the start. He said so, the night that Iann pulled the diamond out of me. Said I’d been perfect; clay for him to mould… He knew he could do anything he wanted with me, and I’d go along. I’d never see it coming.”

Freddie’s voice hardened. “And that’s why it’s so fucking appalling that I can’t hate him as entirely as I want to. That all of that maniacal horror doesn’t just blot out anything else I ever felt; that it doesn’t wipe away the rest of my memories of him.”

“And maybe that doesn’t make _you_ sick, sweetheart,” Freddie chewed at his thumbnail again, “-but it does _me_.” Ephram’s hand on his ankle, holding him tightly, tethering them together, was the most welcome weight in the world, and the fairy was grateful for it, using it to push himself to carry on. “You’re right though,” he said, “-reaching out to him, for any reason, is effectively asking him for help. It’s the lingering shadow of that pathetic stupid boy, the bit that I can’t seem to smother completely - and I shouldn’t have done it. Because I don’t want him anywhere near my life… He terrifies me. I just…”

Freddie looked up at Ephram and shrugged helplessly. “I just don’t want to have meant nothing.”

“I had a huge crush on Mary Poppins,” Ephram murmured, “so yeah, I’d say she was probably a fairy.”

The soft little joke and whatever moment of respite it provided didn’t last. It was crushed under the weight of Martin Adjaye and the legacy of his charisma; it didn’t escape Ephram the words that Freddie used to describe the older vampire. An untouchable, mythic, incredible, powerful force who just took what he wanted, even if that happened to be a sweet seventeen year-old who thought himself worldly enough to avoid any Real Bad Shit.

(Which Ephram already knew wasn’t true. Even without Adjaye, he still held on to the vivid memory that Freddie had given him to keep, of one of the more violent times that a trick had gone wrong. A memory that sometimes stoked a cavernous heat low in Ephram’s belly, but that was his own sick shameful thought to keep.)

“I’m sorry,” Ephram said, because really, that was what he felt and all he could reasonably offer. Freddie went through the same gamut of anger and helplessness and heartbreak whenever Ephram talked about his time incarcerated, and Ephram always found that Freddie knew the right things to say. He wanted very badly to be able to provide that same safe place for his husband, now that Freddie was finally opening up about Adjaye. “Honey, what you did was survival. It ain’t like you had a whole many options available to you at that age, living how you did – and it ain’t like you had a soul you could talk to about it other than Ollie, after you got away from Martin Adjaye. It ain’t no wonder that you still got feelings ain’t been dealt with yet, hmmmmm?”

Swinging one leg down from the sofa, Ephram sat up and tugged Freddie to sitting as well, giving him a quick kiss before he settled them back down together – Freddie lying against his chest, this time. “You listen to me,” Ephram said, the quietness of his voice keeping it from becoming quite the pulpit-voice he was apt to fall into, “Freddie, darlin’ – you meant everything to him. You was the crux of his hideous lil plan, you was the entire reason he could carry on his fuckin’ accursed predatory existence. That might not be the way you _want_ to have mattered, but it is.”

Ephram wrapped his arms around Freddie, holding him tight enough that he could feel his fairy’s heartbeat. “It’s Martin Adjaye who don’t mean nothin’. All that wealth and power and ability, the incredible fortune of having got you into his undeserving goddamned un-life, and he wasn’t even far-sighted enough to realize he could have done it better. That if he only _asked_ you to incubate the jewel, you were like to agree because you adored him.”

When Ephram kissed him, Freddie’s eyes fluttered briefly closed, and he pliantly allowed himself to be repositioned against Ephram’s chest, warm skin pressed to warm skin under their blankets. Oliver leaving them to it, and settling himself on a nearby chair; willing again, now that Ephram was no longer intent upon senseless destruction, to extend a certain amount of trust where his fairy was concerned.

“No,” Freddie said softly, comforted as much as he could be by the strength of Ephram’s arms around him, and clinging to him in return, “-it very much isn’t the way I want to have mattered.”

“I mean… Martin was the only evidence I’d ever had - until you, sweetheart - that there was _anything_ about me worth loving. And even after… after he’d done what he’d done… I still had that. Because I thought that it was my fault. I thought that I’d made him treat me that way - by lying to him, and betraying him - because he’d loved me. That I’d spoiled it. And that… that made it better, somehow. That made it bearable.”

There was a ragged edge to Freddie’s voice when he carried on a moment later. “Only he didn’t, of course. At best, he saw me as a chess-piece… and at worst, I was still just a whore.”

The fairy huffed out a small humourless chuckle. “He did get his money’s worth though - so I suppose at least my professional reputation is as strong as it ever was.”

“But he did say the same thing in the end,” Freddie’s voice had fallen low again, “-or a version of it. That I was part of him forever now; the reason for his absolute immortality…” The fairy sighed. “Which is fitting, I suppose - karmically.”

“I wanted a monster to have loved me, and now I’ve loosed that monster on the world.”

“But it wasn’t a lack of understanding that kept him from just asking me to incubate the jewel for him, love, because I would have… it just wouldn’t have _worked_. Iann figured it out when he was doing his research; he compared it to baking bread. Too much or not enough of any one particular emotion and everything would fall apart; the diamond wouldn’t absorb what it needed to.”

“And it would kill me,” Freddie added, “-which, obviously, was the much more secondary concern.”

There was a long moment of quiet, before he spoke again. “But you… you’ve seen me when I was younger, love… I mean, whatever that memory was that I gave you, it was an old one, yeah? And we met when we were sixteen too, so…” he paused again, “…could you see it, do you think? Whatever it was that made me so disposable then…”

Freddie’s voice turned rueful. “Unless, of course, that sort of question is just more evidence of my persecution complex - in which case, don’t answer.”

“Oh, _honey_.”

There was an ache in Ephram’s voice as he listened to Freddie struggle – even now, as a grown man – to make some sort of uneasy peace and fragile sense of what could never really be quantified. People who were abused blamed themselves; what other choice did they have? Either you were a bad person and brought it on yourself, or the world was just that cruel and random and unloving.

And Freddie, that young, had been primed to see himself as that bad person.

Ephram flinched when Freddie’s voice, stark now despite the chuckle, made a cold joke of his being a prostitute. He hugged his fairy closer, murmuring, “I don’t reckon that’s how karma works, sweetheart. Whatever missteps you might of made from being a boy and not recognizing Adjaye for what he is, they sure as fuck don’t register on the same scale as what he done to you. Or to whoever else.” The words caught in his throat for a moment, and when Ephram felt it ease he kissed Freddie’s pointed ear. “I mean, hell – that’s what you tell me bout Anaxis, ain’t it? So if you want me to believe that, you gotta believe what I’m telling you now.”

Freddie would have liked to argue, to make any number of semantic protestations detailing all the ways that Ephram’s situation with the demon was radically different from Freddie’s with Martin - all of which he believed to be true. The fairy wasn’t sure he would ever be able to see himself as anything other than complicit in his own pain - but at the same time, he knew that what his husband was saying was true. He did want Ephram to accept the verity of his position when it came to Anaxis - and in service to that, he would have to try to see the merit in what his witch was saying now.

There could be no double-standards.

So Freddie’s eyes closed as Ephram’s lips brushed his ear, and he let out a soft sigh. “I know, love,” he murmured, “I’ll try.”

At first, Ephram didn’t know where Freddie was going when he turned down the path of Ephram’s few but impactful magic-engineered encounters with Freddie in the flush of youth, but it soon became clear. Painfully, gut-wrenchingly clear.

“What made you seem _disposable_ ,” Ephram told Freddie, stroking the fairy’s mink-soft hair, “is that your goddamn daddy taught you that’s what you were. And your momma. And I guess your nanny.” He included Bahraman reluctantly, but knew that Freddie wouldn’t miss him skipping her from the list. “Baby, they trained you up to think that bout yourself since you was little, and sweet, and just wanted to be loved.”

Ephram could feel himself getting watery-eyed at the thought (fat, chaotic infant Freddie, wings and all, was one of his favourite things to imagine) and moved on quickly, avoiding getting bogged down in that particular maudlin. “So my guess is – them kinds of folks who’s predators, they knew they could take advantage of that. Tell you all the good things bout yourself that you was starved to hear, that had more to do with than how good you gave head or spread your legs.” He kissed Freddie’s hairline, tasting the slightly damp skin there. “They saw you as disposable because you _thought_ you were. Wasn’t nobody around to tell you different.”

Freddie stayed quiet as Ephram went on, as focused on the timbre of Ephram’s voice and the loving stroke of his hands as his words; turning the ideas articulated over, slowly, in his mind, and assessing them. Looking for flaws or inaccuracies, improbabilities, that stemmed from Ephram’s love for him; anything would make his witch inclined to see Freddie as better or more deserving than he was, less culpable in his own deficiencies. But he found none. There was just Ephram’s slow steady drawl, and his unerring ability to face life’s ugliness and dilute its power by naming it so without any sort of shame.

And silently, Freddie nodded against his lover’s chest, clutching him tighter - never more grateful to have found his way to the here and now. To his place in Ephram’s arms.

Ephram took a deep breath, steadying himself again after that harrowing bit of talking. “Now, ignoring your lil pissy comment bout the persecution complex you _absolutely_ have, you impossible vain lil thing–” Ephram chuckled warmly, one hand rubbing gently up and down Freddie’s broad back, “–when we was sixteen, all’s I found was the most gold-hearted, precious, beautiful boy I ever did see.” He brushed his fingers down one side of Freddie’s face, under his chin. “So sad, though, under all the shimmer. Searching for what, he didn’t even know. Losing tiny pieces of himself to every trick that took too much, because sometimes it feels so good to hurt a whore with your hands or with your words and watch em crumble while they try to save face.”

Freddie huffed out a small laughing breath at his witch’s teasing when it came, preening slightly at the fond indulgence in the words _vain_ and _impossible_ , though they were hardly admirable traits to most people, before falling silent again as Ephram recounted what he had seen in Freddie’s youth. His touch gentle and constant as he described, with the certainty of experience, the fairy’s lowest moments.

And Freddie listened to the beating of Ephram’s heart, the thump sure and regular just under his ear, before lifting his head to look his husband in the eye again; leaning in to kiss him softly, before settling down wordlessly once more against his chest.

He wanted to slip his hand down between Ephram’s legs. To crawl up on top of him and ask bodily for more of the love and comfort that was already being provided - that was always provided - but he didn’t allow himself to act. Because that would be easy, and not everything could be. Because he wanted to stay in the conversation, as hard as it was.

To show Ephram again that he _could_. That he wanted to.

And to show the same thing to himself.

“I never thought of myself as sad,” Freddie said finally, “I thought I saved face better than anyone else in the world…”

“A bit like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“I reckon lots of people are sad. Or lonely, or scared. _Most_ people, mayhap.” Ephram stroked a thumb behind Freddie’s ear, watching the fire crackle in the hearth to punctuate their conversation. “The thing was with you, dumplin', is you did save face, when it came to most people who you likely met. What it took to _see_ it was touching you, talking to you with affection. Showing any sort of interest in you that went deeper’n the going rate.” He passed a feather-light touch over the point of Freddie’s ear, sorrow gripping his heart for what his beloved fairy had endured. “You followed it like a lil sunflower chasing the sun, even if you didn’t realize. So starved for warmth.”

Ephram wrapped his arms around Freddie wholesale, kissing him about the head in a mild frenzy to demonstrate how much he was loved now. “God, honey – you might of been sad, but you sure as fuck wasn’t _weak_ , to survive all that you did. And to reach the end of it being able to love the way you do.”

He sobered slightly, calming back down again and snugging the blankets up around them. “It’s a long fuckin’ process to shake free of a situation where you felt in control even though every goddamn thing around you was chaos. Even when you realize you wasn’t ever really in control at all.”

Burying his nose in Freddie’s still faintly damp hair and breathing in the warm, intimate scent of that lingering rainwater, Ephram murmured, “It’s okay to wonder why he didn’t love you. It’s okay to … if you ain’t able to hate him outright. All’s it means is that you got feelings and emotions and they’s messy things to sort out.” He reached for his mug again, holding the warmth of it against Freddie’s shoulder. “I’m here for you no matter, whatever. The only thing I want from you, darlin', is to never ask Martin Adjaye for anything ever again.”

Freddie laid there quietly, his breathing slow and steady as he listened to Ephram speak, caught somewhere between discomfort - confronting, or even acknowledging, his own sadness, loneliness, and fear was not something that came easily to him; instinctively it made him want to squirm and change the subject, to deny and hide and dig in his heels - and an odd sense of relief to have finally said so many terrible things out loud.

Ephram’s perspective came as no surprise to him, of course - his witch had been unwavering in his love and support, in his pride in what he considered to be Freddie’s wherewithal, since they’d first found each other and begun the slow and intimate process of offering up their most private scars for examination - but still, tonight, with Martin looming large, that steadfast belief was very _very_ welcome.

It made the act of digging up the corpses just a little bit easier to bear.

His husband’s sudden burst of kisses had provoked a small breathy laugh from the fairy though, which had escaped mostly through his nose - but once Ephram had settled down again, tucking them in a bit tighter, his voice going soft as he did his best to absolve Freddie of the worst of his shame and explaining what it was that he wanted from him, Freddie nodded seriously in reply.

“I promise not to ever do it again,” he said quietly. “You have my word, sweetheart. He’s already had too much dominion in my life, and I don’t ever want him to have any more.”

Freddie paused for a moment, then went on, “And I’ll tell Iann too. Martin, or anyone connected to him, isn’t an option - under any kind of circumstances.”

“Good.” Ephram nosed along Freddie’s hairline. “I’m the only fuckin’ man with dominion over you anymore, kitten, and I ain’t above reminding you of it.” His voice dipped into a honeyed burr, skin starting to prickle with warmth where their bodies weighed against each other. Ephram had reaffirmed their new world order to make Freddie feel safe and supported, but also for the reaction he hoped would come, when Freddie would look up at him with those adoring blue eyes. Like Ephram had not just hung the moon but dived for a giant pearl to serve the purpose.

Having clever, audacious, beautiful and worldly Freddie Watts looking up at Ephram like he was something to be valued and proud of? That was a chance that Ephram never passed up. Even though he could have it whenever he wanted – Freddie didn’t believe in pretending he wasn’t smitten – each and every time it was bestowed made Ephram feel a little less bruised by what life had given him. Because life had also given him his fairy.

“You need to remember, too,” Ephram said doggedly (now that he’d gotten Freddie to open up a little on this topic, he was gonna ootch a little more than was freely offered), “that you spent years before Adjaye being groomed to serve and submit to men who wanted you. So he found you not just pretty and swift and interesting, but also knowing what your function was when it came to older men. All prepped for him to exploit.”

Freddie’s own narrative of abuse when asked, Ephram had noticed, seemed to begin at seventeen, and even more specifically at the moment when Martin Adjaye showed his true colours over the course of a brutal few days. But before that was the prostitution in various red-light districts; before that was being used by older boys and teachers at boarding schools; before _that_ was the outright derision and rejection from his father. That was a lot to open the floodgates to if you’d spent most of your adult life rationalizing it, though, and Ephram didn’t want to bombard Freddie with it. Just alight briefly, and then take to the air again.

The rumble of Ephram’s voice as he asserted his ownership, reminding Freddie - as though the fairy might ever be able to forget - how completely he belonged to him, was like a balm, smoothing down and soothing away all the restless anxious discomfort that came with hauling out the past; and Freddie lifted his head again, fingertips stroking gently over Ephram’s chest, to look his husband in the eye.

Funny, he thought, that in a lifetime of chasing beautiful things, it was one pair of clear, careworn, coal-miner’s eyes that had come to define the ideal.

A single pair of eyes that put everything else to shame.

“And I always want you to remind me,” he said, his own voice soft and thick, hand moving more deliberately across the warmth of Ephram’s skin. “Whenever the impulse strikes you; as often as it does…”

His defences down, love shining in his eyes, Freddie shifted his weight, subconsciously looking for a way to be closer-

“You know that no-one’s ever made me feel like you do, sweetheart. No-one else ever could.”

-only to sigh again, averting his gaze, when Ephram pressed the idea that he’d been primed for Martin long before the vampire had ever set eyes on him, unsure of what to say.

Freddie knew what Ephram believed about his school days, and about his time on the game, but as touched as he was by his husband’s belief in his innocence then, Freddie remembered things differently - and it had never crossed his mind to consider that his own perception might be in any way clouded or coloured.

Because he’d never pushed those memories away. He’d never seen any reason to.

He remembered making choices - what he _believed_ to be choices - and the strength of his own greed. He remembered wanting, always _wanting_ … Wanting attention, affection. Wanting to be touched, to be held - even for a little while. Wanting approval, and recognition, and esteem. Wanting to be seen, to be noticed. Wanting to be _wanted_.

Wanting money.

He’d wanted something from all of them. Every last one. And he’d consented to everything. Every time. Even when he’d wanted to take it back again.

Freddie had made his bed - and he’d accepted what had happened to him in it.

So he couldn’t agree with Ephram now; couldn’t absolve himself. Instead, he lifted his eyes again and smiled gently, hoping that he could be forgiven one attempt to side-step tonight, having done his best to face so many other things. Reaching for Ephram’s mug, he leaned over to set it down on the floor beside them before kissing him again, simply because he could.

“I love you,” he murmured, grey-blue meeting azure once more. “You make me talk about everything I never even want to _think_ about, and yet somehow it only makes me love you more… I don’t think that’s even remotely fair.”

Freddie touched Ephram’s cheek, carding his fingers through the silky scruff of beard there, musing more to himself than to Ephram, “My man… Never thought I’d have anything like you.”

Freddie gently but pointedly closed the subject with that mug being set on the floor, and Ephram didn’t try to open it again. Some things you could only believe after you’d heard them enough times and then thought about them enough so your brain could start accepting reality, instead of the stories you told yourself to make it hurt less. They had their whole life together to work on these things. Ephram was a patient man … and in the meantime, telling Freddie about his fairy’s strengths and admirable qualities was easy enough, and Ephram enjoyed doing it.

“I need you to talk bout them things,” Ephram responded, hand running up and down Freddie’s side. “We both do, I reckon. But I know how hard it is for you, honey, and I don’t aim to push you too rough – just keep in mind that you got me now. I’m your man and you can tell me anything. I mean it, fuckin’ anything and I ain’t gonna judge you for it, so long as it comes from you. And not me finding out some other way.”

“I know, love,” Freddie said, serious again. “And I want to. For you, I want to - even though my instinct is to turn away from it. And- it’s getting easier.” He gave another rueful little almost-smile. “I don’t know if it looks that way… but it is. Slowly. It’s just hard not to see it all as this long drawn-out whinge that will eventually bore you senseless…”

“I know that it won’t-” the fairy added quickly, not wanting Ephram to think for a moment that he believed their love that shallow, or Ephram that fickle; that wasn’t what he meant at all, “-I suppose I just…” Freddie paused before carrying on, his voice softer. “…I judge the boy that I was rather harshly, and my knee-jerk thinking is that you should too. That _everyone_ should.”

“I want you to know that it really _is_ getting easier though, sweetheart,” he said again, holding Ephram’s gaze. “With you. And that I would never ever withhold something from you deliberately, yeah? There isn’t any part of me, any part of my life, where you’re not welcome.”

“No locked doors.” Freddie offered the same small smile again. “Some of them just require that push that you mentioned.”

“Because I trust you, love. I trust you to know when to knock, and when to just put your shoulder into it.”

With that, Ephram had said all he wanted to for the time being, and when he kissed Freddie again there was more urgency behind it than the loving, browsing kisses from before, when they were talking. “You know you got me wrapped round your finger, right?” Ephram murmured, hands moving down to cup Freddie’s backside and keep their hips aligned. “In a good way. I like how it works, us. This.”

This kiss, when it came, was more insistent than the others, carrying with it a gentle sort of demand that dragged a soft hungry noise from the back of Freddie’s throat - and when Ephram pulled back again, his hands settling firmly on the fairy’s behind, Freddie nodded, rolling his hips just enough to indicate his approval. “That finger business goes both ways,” he said, “-but I know that I do.”

“And I like it too, love. This. Us.” Freddie nipped lightly at Ephram’s lower lip, and repeated the word like it was the most beautiful one he’d ever heard. “ _Us_.”

“I love that sweet boy,” Ephram said solemnly. “So you best not judge’im too harsh.”

As a demonstration, Ephram deepened their kisses, licking his way into Freddie’s mouth, stroking his tongue along Freddie’s entirely unique bite pattern, sinking his teeth into those deliciously fat lips. With this further sensuality, the encouragement, Freddie not only responded to Ephram pushing his hips up but also trying to get closer, and closer. This had been a constant between them from the night they first met; they couldn’t keep from touching, grabbing, stroking any part of each other within grasp. Ephram sometimes marveled at how their bodies had known instantly what their minds took … well, okay, it was basically the next time they met each other that Ephram confessed he was in love. But still, it was pretty impressive.

Taking hold of Freddie’s beautifully muscled shoulders, Ephram pushed his fairy away, holding him there hovering above Ephram’s chest. “I want to have you now,” he said, voice ragged with a desire that was quickly becoming inhumanly strong. “I want you to go upstairs, into the room–” it was what they’d started calling the room where they kept most of the sex-related bits and bobs acquired, “–and make yourself ready. I’ll be along in a whisker.”

Getting up and manhandling Freddie along with him, Ephram turned his husband towards the stairs and smacked his thigh. “Gowon, git,” he said, putting an amused, anticipatory growl into the order.

Freddie made a small whining noise of protest when Ephram pushed him back, not particularly wanting to go - but he could hardly complain when when he heard the reason why; the tone of his witch’s voice only serving to raise his temperature and make his heart beat faster.

Ephram wasn’t one for wool-gathering when his blood was up.

And before he could so much as nod his head in acquiescence - not that such a thing was necessary; what Ephram commanded, Freddie would obey - the fairy found himself up on his feet, being sent on his way with a sound but playful smack that left his thigh stinging and his cock twitching.

It was the sort of smack that made promises. And for a moment, Freddie was tempted towards insolence, blue eyes sparkling around wide-blown pupils, wanting to tell his husband not to be long - but he managed to resist by the skin of his teeth.

Deciding that discretion was again the better part of valour, he unfurled his wings instead as he headed for the stairs, hoping that the sight would speak for itself; that it would inspire Ephram not to linger. Because even knowing that he might be left to languish in anticipation, Freddie didn’t intend to waste any time.

He had been told to make himself ready - and ready was _precisely_ what he intended to be when his witch walked through the door of their room.

There were rewards to be had for good behaviour, after all.

Since this room had become something more than just another bedroom - distinct from the comfortable master suite where they slept at night, but equally important - they had begun to amass something of a collection. Items, imbued with the sort of magic accessible only to Ephram, that spoke to certain desires - desires of a certain flavour and fervour - and Freddie thought about bringing some of them out. Thought of leaving them where they could be reached without much effort; letting them fill the room with their particular sort of heavy heady thrill… before ultimately choosing to leave them where they lay, lest he seem presumptuous.

Choice was Ephram’s province. His right, and Freddie’s privilege - should it even be bestowed at all.

So using two fingers, but no more, Freddie slicked himself just enough to ease the way - but not enough to make things easy ( a subtle but important distinction), then climbed up onto the bed, the jar once again tucked out of sight. And, lights low, a faint shimmer of fairy dust on his wings and on his skin, he lay down with his head pillowed on his arms. Legs spread, balls nestled between his thighs, half-hard cock pressed between his belly and the mattress, wings extended…

Ready. Willing. Waiting.

And impatiently wondering, though barely any time had passed - Ephram wasn’t wrong to call him vain and impossible - just what was taking so bloody long.

An involuntary growl of approval rumbled through Ephram’s chest at the sight of Freddie’s wings, coquettishly unfurled as his fairy made his way upstairs. He was never – and probably would never be – prepared to see those lovely dragonfly appendages, startled each time Freddie was able to move them. From the very first time they’d fucked Ephram had dwelled on the strong, elegant structure of those wings, perfectly complementing the same attributes in Freddie’s finely-tuned body.

He only gave Freddie a few minutes’ head start, giving himself the busywork of checking the doors that went from the kitchen to the backyard to make sure they’d shut it. The hole Ephram had punched in their cabinetry made him grimace, but he didn’t linger. He had something far more deserving of attention upstairs.

And Lord, wasn’t the sight of his husband pretty when Ephram climbed the stairs and opened the room, dim-washed with low light and fairy dust shimmer. He took his time looking Freddie over, gaze feasting on the scrupulously maintained body spread out for his use. “You must be pretty greedy for it to get everything done up in such quick a time,” Ephram murmured, going over to sit on the bed and smoothing his hand down the curve of Freddie’s ass. His fingers pressed inward, and he made a pleased sound to feel the light slick of oil there. “Oh, good boy,” he purred. “You know just how Daddy likes it, huh? Been trained up good for this.”

Freddie had heard the heavy sound of Ephram’s footfall as he’d approached the door, each step closer making his blood rush; and when it finally opened, the fairy couldn’t contain the small shiver of needy anticipation that crawled up his spine, sending a tremor through his wings. Couldn’t do a thing to hide it.

Though, miraculously, he did manage to keep his head down. Waiting for Ephram to come to him; to set the tone.

And when his husband sat down beside him, the bed dipping under his weight, bringing the warm scent of his skin, his damp hair, and his arousal close enough to make Freddie’s mouth water, one big hand coming down to caress his ass, Freddie let out a moan - soft and breathy. A moan that only deepened when Ephram’s fingers began searching for evidence of his obedience.

“Always greedy for you, Daddy,” the fairy murmured, parting his thighs just a little wider, emboldened by the praise and wanting more. “I know how to do as I’m told. How to please you…” 

Standing, the witch made his way to the head of the bed and lightly grasped the crook of Freddie’s folded arm. “Tuck your elbows in under you,” Ephram ordered. “Fists to the front. Forearms togeth–yeah, perfect, like that.” He pet Freddie’s hair, admiration and fondness plain on his face. “Just plain perfect, baby.”

Lifting one long leg, Ephram planted it on the bed, bringing his stiff and leaking cock directly in front of Freddie’s face and spitting in his hand, pumping the length a few times as precum dripped in a long string from the slit. Letting Freddie get a good eyeful, get hungry for what Ephram could do to him with that cock.

Once he was satisfied with having mesmerized his sweetheart, Ephram used his other hand to lightly slap the corner of Freddie’s plush mouth a few times, then tapped just under Freddie’s chin. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Open wide and take me all in, honey.”

Not that Ephram waited. He pushed the shiny, sticky head of his prick against Freddie’s mouth, feeding the length of it in and then holding Freddie’s head there, wet hand clenched in soft brown hair. “We’re both gonna stay home tomorrow,” Ephram said, slightly strained as he began to fuck Freddie’s mouth, “and all you’re gonna eat from now till the end of the day is my cum. You understand?” He grinned a touch cruelly and pressed his cock deep into Freddie’s throat, making it clear that the question didn’t require an answer.

Freddie was only too eager to demonstrate the truth of his claim to obedience when commanded to move; flushing with pride when he was deemed perfect and leaning into his husband’s touch. Presented with Ephram’s cock though - lovely, thick, and hard for him; already leaking - Freddie wasn’t sure he could have focused on anything else if he’d tried. He licked his lips, eyes hot as he stared at it; wanting it desperately, and already rocking his own hips whorishly against the bed. Wanting every single feeling that that cock could bring him.

Wanting Ephram. _Nownownow_.

The soft slaps to the face going straight to his own aching prick, Freddie wet his lips again and parted them, tilting his chin up when he was bid - just in time to have his witch push home, coating his tongue with the salty tang of precum, and the rich meaty taste of his man. And Freddie groaned again, loving it, and relaxed his throat - knowing that Ephram didn’t need any encouragement at all to fuck his face and take what he wanted, but anxious to provide it all the same.

Unable to change his position, or use his hands in any way, the fairy made the best use of his tongue that he could as Ephram slid in and out of his mouth. Sucking hard with hollowed cheeks when Ephram would pull back out of his throat, and swallowing around him when he went deep; staring up through his eyelashes, drooling and slutty.

And he moaned again, with his mouth stuffed full, when he heard what his diet would consist of for the next 24 hours, bucking against the mattress; grinding fruitlessly against the blankets as Ephram pushed deeper, his already sore lips tickled by damp wiry curls of dark blond hair.

Hungry already - for every last bit.

“Christ, look at you,” Ephram groaned, drinking in every last frame of the luscious sight before him, Freddie’s lips forced to stretch to accommodate his girth. How shiny they were, how wet, how they swelled and reddened with each demanding thrust. How beautiful Freddie was in taking it, sucking and panting, spit stringing from his mouth just the way Ephram liked to see. Undoing his perfectly put-together gem of a husband was one of his great pleasures, and he knew Freddie was eager to let him.

The ways they fit together never stopped being a thrill.

But right now Freddie was doing his job _too_ well, his mouth an irresistible receptacle and the sweet suction of his tongue and hollowed cheeks filling and tightening Ephram’s aching balls. And he didn’t intend to cum like this.

“Spread your fucking legs,” he ground out through his teeth, pulling his dripping cock from Freddie’s mouth and moving to the foot of the bed. He yanked Freddie back by the hips so his knees were perched at the edge (there was no footboard specifically for this reason) and plowed into him in one strong, insistent thrust. The faint bit of softening and slickening that Freddie had performed made sure that there was some resistance and Ephram bared his teeth as he took Freddie deep, feeling the tight pull on his prick.

“It’s all you’re gonna get your belly filled with, my spunk,” Ephram grunted, wiping a hand down Freddie’s spine to feel the sweat breaking out there. He liked evidence that he was working his fairy’s body hard, because Freddie’s body like his wardrobe was designed to work like a seamless, lovely machine. Meant to perform beautifully under all circumstances and please his partner, whoever that was. But for Ephram, there were occasional stutters in the works, a stop here and a dropped beat there, signs that Freddie was giving him _everything_ and never sacrificing intimacy for perfection.

So how could Ephram do any less?

“Clench down on it, baby,” he ordered, spreading Freddie open so he could watch himself stabbing into that softened, stretched hole and the way that his husband’s body took him in. “And don’t you worry – Daddy knows what a little whore you are, so this ain’t gonna be it. I just wanna take the edge off before I get going on what all I mean to use you for.”

His chin slick with saliva, jaw aching and lips sore, Freddie just gazed up at his husband for a moment, panting, once Ephram had pulled free; his chest heaving as he tried to get his breath back, the lingering taste of cock in his mouth still enough to make him want to cry for more - and it took him half a second longer than it should have to realise he’d been given an order. That Ephram was moving. And the instant he did as he was told, pushing himself up on his knees, his stance wide, the fairy found himself yanked sharply back by the hips to the edge of the bed and penetrated with a single demanding plunge that opened his mouth again and forced a guttural animal-sounding grunt from the pit of his stomach.

Two fingers was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to that gorgeous cock.

Wincing slightly at the burning stretch - he loved it; God, he fucking _loved_ it - Freddie groaned as Ephram fucked him, his own erection slapping stickily against his belly with each thrust; pushing back as best he could, becoming a part of the rhythm… collared and obedient, but active and present. He was sweating already, the heat almost having a pulse of its own, and Freddie could feel it dotting his skin; could feel how wet he was when Ephram’s hand pushed up his back, between his wings, making him gasp.

“….god… s’good… Daddy, _please_ …”

Ephram spread him wide, held him open to watch - and Freddie moaned again, clenching tight, working his hole and squeezing around the unrelenting force inside of him; the push and drag, the depth of each thrust, bringing a tremble to his straining muscles and weakening his knees.

Because he _was_ a whore. For this, for Ephram. Proudly and happily. Greedily… And whatever was coming next, Freddie wanted it. He’d beg for it without reservation.

The fairy clenched again, groaning, and held it; breathless and making a mess of precum on blankets beneath him, turning his head to look over his shoulder and watch. Wanting to see that look in Ephram’s eyes; the one that lit him up from the inside out.

Ephram could have instructed Freddie to turn his head back, to bury his face in the pillows, but once he caught and held those pupil-blown blue eyes the words chopped off in his throat. “Watch me, yeah, that’s right,” he praised Freddie. “My gorgeous, good lil slut, always ready for Daddy’s cock, huh? You like to see yourself takin’ it?”

Roughly, Ephram slammed into Freddie’s hole with the force of his whole body behind it, flattening the fairy down to the mattress again. “You keep watching,” he said, biting Freddie’s ear before he pushed up on his hands and just slightly on his knees, prick sliding out of Freddie halfway. “Watch yourself get fucked like you deserve.”

He pushed back in, out and in again in long strokes, and then moved his right forearm behind Freddie’s neck, shoving until Freddie was forced into a slight, strained curl. “Good, that’s better,” Ephram growled, picking up his pace. “That’s the right place for you, ain’t it? Pinned down gettin’ bred like the lil bitch boy you are.”

But Ephram knew he wasn’t going to last long. The tightness and heat of Freddie’s ass, the clenching muscles, they were too much for him to resist.

With a howl, Ephram held still buried deep inside of Freddie as he shot spurt after spurt of cum into his lover. “Oh, honey,” he groaned, “oh _sweetheart,_ such a sweet cunt Daddy gets to use, filling your belly up with my cum.” He pulled out, a trickle of semen following him, and slapped Freddie’s already reddened ass. “Rode hard,” Ephram said, satisfied. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Freddie’s damp temple, murmuring, “…but you got plenty more coming to you before you get put away.”

The truth, of course, was that Freddie loved to watch as Ephram fucked him. Loved to see his husband so driven by so many different kinds of want and need. Loved the flexing strain of Ephram’s muscles, the gleam of his skin, the look on his face as he made Freddie his in such a primal way.

And Freddie would drink in the view just as voraciously when it was someone else temporarily on the receiving end of his witch’s attentions - but it was never the same.

It was gorgeous - after all, it was Ephram, and a beautiful fuck was a beautiful fuck - but when it was _theirs_ …

It was incandescent.

Freddie groaned breathlessly, “Yessir… god, yes…” as Ephram pounded into him, hissing at the stinging bite to his ear, and doing his best to keep watching; to keep his eyes from fluttering closed as shocks of painful pleasure washed through him.

Ephram had him pressed against the bed, each thrust long and deliberate and dirty, dragging out every sensation until the fairy’s nerves felt raw. And when the forearm against his neck forced him into a curl, Freddie whimpered - but he still squeezed tight on every stroke; his own cock needy and throbbing, only aching more with each filthy word growled into his ear.

“My place is wherever you want me, Daddy,” he rasped, a little whine escaping before he could go on. “…your bitch… your-” he grunted again, “…your cum-hungry little-”

Ephram cut him off, cumming with a roar, and Freddie moaned loudly as he felt the heat of it filling him up; felt the swell and pulse of Ephram’s prick as he unloaded - and though the fairy was not invited to do the same, he still preened with satisfaction as he lay there panting. Sore and wanting, sweat-soaked and smeared with spunk.

Ephram urged Freddie onto his back, taking another moment to kiss him – how could he resist? – before stepping back from the bed. Ephram said, “Now stay still for this,” and put his hand on Freddie’s bare, sweaty chest. Slowly, a web of green-silver magic started to weave itself under Freddie, encircling his ankles as it raised up off the bed. When it stopped, Ephram visibly tying the magic off so he wouldn’t have to concentrate on maintaining, it was patently obvious that Freddie had been suspended in a sling, arms free but legs tied wide open to display his ass.

“Don’t let any of that cum spill, now,” Ephram said, voice dark with amusement and promise as he briefly shoved his thumb into that wet, inviting hole. “Or what’s ahead is gonna be mighty hard on you, kitten.”

Wincing when Ephram pulled out, his leaking cock jumping at the slap, Freddie was still trying to catch his breath when he was turned over onto his back - but he reached for Ephram’s face all the same and held it as he was kissed deeply, his air stolen all over again.

And, confused though he was, when he was told to keep still, his husband’s hand pressed to his chest, he followed the instruction - realisation only finally dawning as he was hoisted into the air, legs spread and tied, Ephram’s silver-green magic fizzing against his skin. Helpless, and still so hard against his belly, Freddie bit his lip, clenching as tight as he could to do as he was told - but he let out a whining groan when Ephram’s thumb pushed its way back inside to undermine his efforts. “Fucking hell…”

He squeezed hard around it, then felt it withdraw again, reaching down between his open legs to touch for himself.

He was wet, sticky - but not dripping. He could do this. And he nodded, meeting Ephram’s eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”

Ephram didn’t expect Freddie to touch himself too, to check that he wasn’t disobeying – and it would have been understandable if he had been leaking, after the pounding Ephram put him through and the sheer volume of spunk he’d filled Freddie’s belly with – and the sight of those clever fingers making sure that he was pleasing his Daddy made Ephram’s mouth water.

“Such a perfect little whore,” he groaned, grabbing hold of Freddie’s hand and pushing two fingers in, then adding one of his own. “Wanting so bad to make me happy … it’s all you can think about, huh? Nothin’ else in your mind when you’re taking Daddy’s big thick prick.” Ephram pushed another finger deep into Freddie’s ass, twining his with Freddie’s own and directing the force and speed of the thrusts. “I could do _any goddamn thing_ to you and you’d love it, you’d whine and beg for more. My sweet lil fucktoy.”

Freddie let out a soft whining grunt as Ephram took control, making him push two of his own fingers deep inside his ass; the witch guiding the motion so that Freddie could feel how warm and wet he was, sore and sloppy, before Ephram added two more of his own slightly bigger digits. Stretching Freddie’s already aching hole wider.

And Ephram, of course, was completely right - there was almost nothing that Freddie wouldn’t do to make him happy.

The fairy groaned louder as their fingers moved harder and just a little bit faster; the cum inside him announcing both its presence, and his status as a whore, with each thick sticky-sounding slurp it made as it clung to their skin - but he didn’t answer his husband’s questions. Words were getting harder and harder to grasp, and regardless, Ephram already knew that the answer was yes - yes, Freddie would love it; yes, he’d whine and beg and plead for more; yes, yes, _yes, yes_.

Grasping Freddie’s straining, stiff cock, Ephram lowered his head and swallowed the length of it down as he forced yet another digit into Freddie’s silken, heated hole. The squelching noises were filthy obscene, but Ephram loved them – loved the aural evidence of the kind of boundless access he had to Freddie’s body – and he hummed in satisfaction along the pulse of his fairy’s cock. Pulling off, Ephram said, “You look so beautiful like this, kitten, so fuckin’ delectable, so precious. But you know what else?”

Taking Freddie’s hand out, Ephram pressed the cum-soaked fingers to his husband’s mouth and returned his own to the gaped hole. The muscle tried and failed to resist as Ephram pushed his bunched fingers in, twisting and thrusting until his big knuckles popped past the thick, abused ring. Leaning up, Ephram pulled Freddie closer by one of the support straps (easy enough when it was made of his own magic) and pressed his lips behind Freddie’s ear.

“Baby, you look like meat hung up for me to use. Like an offering left on my altar for me to devour.” Ephram kissed that spot, then under Freddie’s ear, then his cheekbone, and pressed his forehead against Freddie’s as he slowly kept working his husband open. “Is that what you want, honey? You want Daddy to fuck you up good? I know you can take it, my good boy, my sweet boy. And I wanna see you take my fist and love it.”

His voice dipped lower, turning rougher and more hungry; a particular timbre that came out when Ephram was pushing limits slightly, testing them, making himself vulnerable by exposing his own possibly distasteful desires. He waited for a sign from Freddie, never stopping the motion of his hand.

When Ephram bent low to swallow his cock, when that perfect mouth closed around his poor neglected prick - even as another finger breached him, making his mouth fall open; his lips wet, the lower one bitten a glossy pink - Freddie let out a sob of needy grasping hunger. “Ephram, _please_ …” he panted uselessly, “…please, Daddy…” before his witch pulled away again, leaving the fairy ready to crawl on his belly if he had to.

His hole throbbed as Ephram continued to fuck it with his fingers, hot and soft and swollen red. His cock and balls ached in desperation; muscles tight, wings taut and trembling… but if it stopped - if Ephram stopped - Freddie would have cried as though his heart was broken. He wanted it all. Wanted it with the sort of intensity that defied description. Wanted nothing more than to draw it out and make it last.

Ephram had mastered alchemy where Freddie was concerned; sole possessor of the formula that produced that golden state of trust and desire and the sweetest sort of pain - the balance of praise and love and debasement that kept Freddie wanting more. And when Ephram called him kitten, declaring him beautiful, and pushed the fairy’s own spunk-slicked fingers into his mouth, Freddie moaned again, licking them clean without hesitation; the taste of the two of them together spurring his dripping cock to jump against his stomach. That moan breaking into a gasping cry as Ephram’s hand worked its way back inside him, pushing until Freddie had accepted everything but his thumb.

It hurt - _God_ , it hurt - and the fairy’s eyes teared up without permission… but by then Ephram had drawn him close, kissing him in all the right places - soft intimate places that only Ephram had ever cared enough to find - still fucking him slow and steady; praising him and asking if he wanted to be devoured.

Admitting to his own wants - the ones that Freddie knew still shamed him - and waiting for an answer.

It had been a long time since Freddie had taken anything so big, but he knew that he could, and he knew that he wanted to for Ephram. Knew what it would do it him - that everything about him would be at his husband’s mercy - and he nodded. “Do it,” he murmured, looking into Ephram’s eyes. “Make me show you how much I love it.”

His head fell back as Ephram’s broad knuckles breached him again, and Freddie groaned, his breathing shaky. “I want it,” he whined, doing his best to squeeze his loose muscles around his witch’s hand, “All of it…”

“…all of you…”

“You have me,” Ephram breathed, holding Freddie’s gaze as a silvery shimmer appeared under their normal storm-blue; Freddie’s fairy dust rising there as if to affix the image of the fairy permanently. “You got me, honey, every fuckin’ scrap of me is for you. My own fairy king.”

Freddie had always suspected that he had just been born greedy. He’d soothed himself with the idea when he’d needed to - that the dearth of love in his life, the lack of care, and the chill of his loneliness, didn’t matter because even if he’d had what he wanted so desperately it would never have been enough. That he’d have been impossible to satisfy; constantly craving more love in the same way that he craved more sex, more money, more attention.

It had hurt less to try to think of himself as unable to sate, rather than unworthy of devotion.

But he’d learned, after falling in love with Ephram, that he’d only been half right. He was greedy, and always would be - but to have all of Ephram Pettaline, every last fucking scrap, just the way his witch promised, was exactly perfectly enough.

It was what Freddie had always wanted. What he’d waited a lifetime for.

And the fairy felt every inch a king as Ephram pressed closer; the fingers inside him working deeper, and stretching him wider. Opening him up for so much more.

Ephram lowered his head again, the bridge of his nose against Freddie’s collarbone and their skin sticking together like syrup as Ephram worked Freddie’s hole open wider and wider. “Somebody must of done this with you before, sweetheart, am I right?” Ephram asked, sounding a little drunk on what he was doing, going slower now so he could really twist his fingers to work them in. “I understand the temptation. You feel so good, Freddie, like silk, like rawness.”

Raising himself back up again, Ephram looked down at the sight of his hand pushing into Freddie repeatedly and groaned, his cock twitching. “I own this pretty lil boy cunt, don’t I?” he asked contemplatively, to the universe rather than to Freddie himself. Ephram listened, then seemed to receive some inner communication because he smiled at Freddie, kissed one bound ankle, and pushed his entire hand in until his husband’s hole closed helplessly around his wrist.

Slowing his tremulous breathing to match the pace of Ephram’s hand, Freddie couldn’t help his little moaning mewls of painful pleasure as his husband’s thick fingers brushed the right place inside; the sloppy sound of his hole giving way and the sting of the accommodation all doing their part to keep him hard and hungry for it - but he nodded, nuzzling against the side of Ephram’s head when the witch asked if someone had done this to him before, panting, “…but they had to pay extra.”

And despite the praise that he loved - that he all but lived for - the fairy whined when his witch pulled back again, though the look on Ephram’s face as he watched Freddie’s ass swallow his fingers - made the distance worth it. The question, Freddie knew, about who his cunt belonged to, wasn’t his to answer - the answer was already abundantly clear - but he also knew, as soon as those soft lips touched his ankle, that Ephram was about to demonstrate the absolute truth of it.

And when his husband pushed all the way inside, making Freddie take his entire hand up to the wrist, the fairy hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away, letting out a moaning grunt, his breath hitching.

“Like butter,” Ephram murmured, his cock now definitely sloping heavily back to arousal. “Ohhh, Freddie, honey, split you open like a biscuit is what I wanna do, lick you up every goddamn crumb.” He lathered his forearm up with lube – the thick one they kept from the atronach sex shop that turned hot and cold by turns – and pushed in further, watching Freddie avidly. “Look at you, look at you,” Ephram groaned, taking hold of Freddie’s cock and stripping it in a few long, rough pulls. “I _found_ you, Freddie, I found you, perfect beautiful angel slut–” he fed more of his forearm into Freddie’s body, against the remaining resistance. “All them other fuckups didn’t understand, did they? What you could be used for. What you could give a man.”

God…

Freddie felt so incredibly full that his cock was leaking copiously, whorishly, against his belly, and his breathing was ragged as he stared down between his legs, watching as Ephram slicked up his forearm, then pushed deeper.

The lube was warm and steadily getting warmer, the depth already far too much and still not enough - a sweet sort of agony that had Freddie feeling each push all the way down to his fingers and toes - and he reached up with his left hand to pinch and tug at his nipple; needing a counter-balance, a sensation that he could control so that he didn’t slip off the edge of the knife it felt as though he were balanced on. But when Ephram, still buried halfway to the elbow, wrapped his free hand around Freddie’s prick, jerking him roughly, the fairy let out a sob and arched his back - aching all over, inside and out, and still throbbing with need.

Pausing, Ephram placed his palm flat on Freddie’s lower belly, breathing harder, mouth reddening in primal possessive need. “How deep a man could fall in love with you, Freddie, they didn’t see it. But I did.” Ephram leaned his body forward, trapping his hand between them and kissing Freddie in between soft panting breaths, the room seeming suddenly hushed, sacred. “I love you. With every good thing I got left in me, and most of the bad, too. The part of me what wants to leave my fingerprints seared inside you so you’ll always know I left my mark. To keep you and love and protect and defile you as long as I fuckin' can.”

Tentatively, and trembling, once Ephram had let go of his cock again, willing his breathing back to something slower, Freddie bore down just a little, as much as he could in the sling, and began to touch himself - not stroking, just rubbing, as Ephram slid deeper - though his hand stilled entirely when his husband’s came down beside it on his belly; Ephram’s words beautiful and able to cut through the fog of his sensory overload.

He stared at the flattened palm, pupils blown so wide that the blue had all but disappeared, heart thumping in his ears in the quiet of their little makeshift church, and listened as his witch pledged his love again between kisses; his own bitten lips parting to receive it all and give it back in kind. “I love you too,” Freddie murmured, his voice raspy and raw. “That’s all I want, sweetheart; all I’ll _ever_ want. Your fingerprints. Your love and everything that comes with it…”

“I don’t ever want anything else. Or anything less.”

Their lips barely brushing, soft warm breath passing between them, Ephram formed his hand into a fist where it was deep inside Freddie’s body, growling low and greedy at the now noticeable bump it made through the fairy’s belly. “Gonna hurt you some now,” he said, caught between apology and eagerness. “Don’t hold back, honey, let yourself feel it and it’ll get good for you.”

Ephram licked his lips, almost feral by this point. “You ride it out like a good boy, my Freddie, and let me see that magic time. When you start to crave it, when I’ve turned you into a gagging slut for it.” He relaxed his fingers and slid out a few inches, then curled them back into a fist and shoved forward.

They stayed lingering close and intimate for what could have been moments or eternity - Freddie wasn’t sure which. Close enough to kiss but just shy of it, sharing the same soft gusts of breath as beads of sweat ran down Freddie’s chest and escaped from Ephram’s hairline. But Freddie felt it the instant that his husband clenched his fist inside him, and he groaned at the change in pressure. At the bulge in his belly that showed Ephram’s abject ownership of all that he had to give.

And swallowing hard, he grit his teeth when Ephram told him that he was about to hurt him, nodding slowly. “I know, love,” he said, shivering as the lube turned icy and gooseflesh erupted across his heated skin. “I can take it.”

Freddie began to rub his cock again, breathing deeply and hoping to be ready for what was coming. “I’ll be good, Daddy; I won’t hold anything back.”

But when Ephram began to take him hard - faster and deeper than before - the pain was so strong that Freddie didn’t think he could stand it. Jaw clenched, his eyes shut tight, tears rolled down his cheeks as he whimpered; doing his best to breathe his way through it, his cock gone semi-soft.

And then…

Then things began to change.

The ache was ever-present, but slowly it began to sweeten again. To build. To climb exponentially, setting all of the fairy’s nerve-endings sparking, and making his wings shake. Each punching thrust of Ephram’s fist and forearm sending waves of wrenching pleasure through Freddie’s body. Over and over again until he thought he might burst.

Reaching up, he buried his hands in his hair and squirmed, his chest heaving, not wanting to touch his cock; wanting to cum just like this - moaning and begging as Ephram fucked him, his eyes locked on his husband.

“Ephram please…” he keened, almost slurring, “…please just… I need- oh _god_ , Ephram- Ephram _please_ …”

These moments were the ones that Ephram lived for: when his eloquent, fleet-tongued darling was so overcome by pleasure that he couldn’t even grasp at coherency anymore, just abandoned himself to Ephram’s mercies and trusted that he’d be guided somewhere golden. Trust made up so much of this. The strain and suffering on his beautiful fairy’s face once Ephram started really fucking into him was gorgeous, glorious, satisfying something buried deep in Ephram and scorched into his bones. It was sick, he knew, the inferno in his belly that rose with each helpless sound falling from Freddie’s lips, each time his fist and arm forced his lover’s body open, each bestial grunt that came from his own chest.

But that sickness was part of who he was and what made him Ephram Pettaline. It was what he’d learned in order to either eke out some pleasure or go mad from when the guard in the Hole had taken money to let anybody have their fifteen minutes using him, or when Ephram managed to come out top in a yard fight and the loser took revenge later, or when he turned himself over to Otis Jenkins even when he was free, to be beaten and fucked to stave off the howling confusion over what he was and what he was meant for.

Ephram knew that Freddie wasn’t the type to get off on inflicting or bearing pain during sex, and he’d accepted that easily and without wishing otherwise. Just like Ephram’s penchant for it, Freddie’s aversion to violence was part of who he was, and Ephram wouldn’t change his husband’s sexual makeup for the world. But with permission freely given like this, he couldn’t help but drink in how very fucking _beautifully_ his darling suffered.

“ _Ohhhh_ , there we go, now.” Ephram purred lowly as Freddie’s body language started to change, melding wantonly into the motions of being punch-fucked instead of the instinctive resistance. “There’s my good boy, my precious lil boy-slut, there’s the one I save all my meanest and my best love for.” Feverishly now, Ephram bent Freddie in half so he could kiss those bruised lips, licking and sucking up every moan and gasp as he added a twisting motion to his arm. “Couldn’t nobody take it like this, baby, sweet sweet creature you are, look at your cunt just opening right up to take me in. My Freddie.”

A brush of his thumb was all it took to make Freddie’s collar gleam and sparkle, and then Ephram traced that thumb over his fairy’s flushed cheekbone to leave a glittering trail. “I want you to cum now. Show me how much you love this, my pretty lil filthy whore,” Ephram said, his voice little more than a husky rasp at this point. He slapped his hand down over Freddie’s eyes, tilting his head back, and urged more quietly, tenderly, even as he flexed his fist deep inside Freddie’s pinioned body, “…show me how much you love me.”

Freddie keened again when he was rolled up and bent double, wide-splayed thighs pressed against his sweaty torso, his gaping hole on display as Ephram’s fist hammered into it over and over again. His cunt slick with lube and cum, swollen and slutty and entirely Ephram’s to use and abuse and devour. But he still did his best to return his witch’s kisses even as he sobbed out his pleasure, panting and gasping for breath. Every punishing twist of that huge hand shaking him further and further apart; and the use of his name - the reminder that here, with this man, his husband, it mattered who he was; that he was loved and claimed, and belonged only to Ephram, who wanted it no other way - dragging animal sounds of a shredded sort of bliss from the back of the fairy’s throat and the depths of his belly.

Freddie was vaguely aware of a shimmer of silvery green as Ephram touched his collar, the magic humming where it pressed against his neck; and when his witch smoothed a thumb across his cheekbone gently, his arm still moving deeply, Freddie felt more of the same linger in its wake. But the order to cum, gritted out in warm huffs of ragged Kentucky gravel, made the fairy’s already erratic breath catch, his hands tightening their grip painfully on his own short hair. And when he lost his vision, Ephram’s hand covering his eyes and tilting his head back, the pressure inside him pulsing with the movement of his lover’s fist - when he was urged sweetly to show his husband how much he loved him - Freddie let go with a loud shuddering cry of what could have been either agony or ecstasy, but was really a beautifully devastating blend of them both; his bound body sent into violent spasm where he hung, aching cock, red with neglect and shiny with need, shooting thick glittering jets of spunk to spatter across his chest and stomach.

And then he went limp, whimpering softly as he struggled to haul in breath after shaky breath, his hands finally dropping to dangle helplessly at his sides. “I love you… God, I love you much…”

The intense eruption of Freddie’s orgasm, the way his entire tense body shook hard enough to almost break the woven magic that was holding him up and his legs apart – it drew an answering groan from Ephram, struck by his husband’s beauty in that moment of being lovingly torn apart.

He moved the hand covering Freddie’s face, kissing the corner of each dazed blue eye and feeling the dampness of the fringe of lashes there. “You done so good, baby,” Ephram told him, softly, “so good, my pretty Freddie, my sweet angel boy. Takin’ Daddy’s fist in your poor lil cunt like that … but you liked it, didn’t you?” Ephram rubbed his hand against the side of Freddie’s neck, his shoulder, crossed to one nipple to pluck at it. “Daddy could teach you to love any goddamn thing he wants to do to you. My precious baby slut.”

Ephram uncovered his eyes and Freddie blinked blearily up at him, still trying to get his breath as his lover kissed his face gently and murmured soft little endearments and encouragement, the fairy still stretched around his fist. And he moaned as his husband pet him, letting out a little mewl and jolting slightly in his sling when his nipple was pinched - every nerve-ending in his body feeling raw - nodding his head a beat too slowly to confirm for his daddy that, yes, he had liked it.

Though even in the state he was in now, he thought that ‘liked’ seemed too small a word for how he’d felt to be rent to pieces that way…

His witch was right about the rest though, and Freddie knew it.

He could learn to love anything that came from Ephram. He would let Ephram take him farther and deeper, push him harder, than he’d ever even entertained before. And he would do it happily. His trust in Ephram was absolute.

The leg restraints dissolved away as Ephram spoke, leaving Freddie limp and exhausted, slung into a shimmering net. Ephram started slowly sliding his hand from where it was crushed in the heat and pressure of Freddie’s body, lowering his head to lap at some of the cum painted over his fairy’s belly. “Can’t help yourself,” he tutted, knuckles stretching the swollen slick hole (he was surprised to find there was still tightness, after that) before popping out.

“Oh, Jesus.” Ephram pushed Freddie’s thighs apart again, ducking to stare at the reddened, beaten-open mess he’d made, the soft helpless gape of it. “Oh, Freddie–” He cut himself off with a strangled moan and pressed his tongue to that abused flesh, tasting the coppery rawness of it and the way the swollen membrane was feverish in his mouth, hearing the unbidden whimpers from Freddie with each lick and suck.

That made it too much, finally, and Ephram straightened, his eyes wild as he grabbed Freddie’s ankles and held them against his shoulder, the other hand on Freddie’s hip as he plunged deep into his husband. With Freddie’s ass so open and unable to resist, Ephram’s prick slid in to the balls in one go and he tipped his head back with an animal shout that reverberated in the room.

The restraints holding Freddie’s ankles melted away, and the fairy sagged a bit more in his fatigue, letting out another moan at the way the shift felt with Ephram’s fist still inside him, sore and swollen as he was, now that the forceful waves of pleasure he’d been tormented with had ebbed away to a quiet muzzy daze; and he whined softly as Ephram lapped at the mess on his belly, his breath catching in a sob, eyes squeezing shut, as his husband’s large hand was finally, carefully, removed from his body.

And for a moment, Freddie felt a bit bereft to be so empty.

But he could feel Ephram’s earlier load of cum and all that lube starting to ooze out of him, too. Could feel the way he was gaping; his hole fucked and beaten so thoroughly that it was hot and throbbing. He could only guess what he looked like… but he didn’t have the strength to curl forward to try to see, or to reach down and touch for himself. And even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Because when Ephram saw what he’d done, letting loose the sort of moan that caught Freddie square in the chest, he bent low and pressed his mouth to the damage; his hot wet tongue dragging another series of shaking whimpers of pain-pleasure from the depths of Freddie’s bones.

And then, just as suddenly, the fairy wasn’t empty anymore.

His mouth smeared with his own spunk and their witch-lube, Ephram hoisted Freddie’s ankles onto his shoulder and thrust his cock home with no resistance whatsoever; Freddie groaning weakly along with the thick squelching sounds of each push. It only took three, four strokes before Ephram was shooting his load, thigh muscles quivering from the strain of keeping his cock locked inside of Freddie as long as possible. But there was no way to stopper the looseness of the hole he’d made, and as Ephram let the sling dematerialize to lower them both to the bed, he made sure to roll Freddie onto his belly so that he could slowly, indulgently lap the stream of cum from his lover’s abused asshole.

Once he was done with that, Ephram moved up to lie next to Freddie, their noses touching. “I love you,” he mumbled back. “Freddie, I love you like I never knew I could love nobody.” Nudging slightly with the tip of his nose – it seemed the most he could manage at this point – Ephram breathlessly promised, “I’ll never leave you, baby, I’ll never get rid of you, I’ll never get tired of you. There’s so much love you should of got and I’m gonna make up for all of it.”

Freddie took it all, unable and not wanting to resist, biting his lip when Ephram came with a guttural yell, filling him with a second warm load of cum. He found himself back on the bed shortly thereafter, though he didn’t entirely remember coming down out of the magical sling; grateful that Ephram had put him on his belly, and panting softly, too exhausted to do any more than make small kittenish noises, trembling slightly, as his darling gently licked him clean.

And when he was done, Ephram came up to lay beside him, close and comforting, radiating warmth and love, as their noses rubbed together; the gesture intimate, and almost innocent in its way. Telling Freddie how much he loved him, and that he would never leave him, never grow tired of him, never send him away. That he loved Freddie like he had never loved anyone else; that he would be all the love that the fairy had ever been denied, and more - and Freddie felt his eyes begin to burn, his chest getting tight. So in spite of the way that his body ached all over, despite the leaden feeling of his limbs, he forced himself to move closer, to nuzzle against Ephram’s face as best he could.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he breathed, “More than anything, or anyone. More than I can tell you.”

Freddie marshaled his strength and groped for his husband’s closest hand, finding it and threading their fingers together, holding him as tightly as he could. “I’m yours for the rest of your life, Ephram,” he said.

“And I’ll want you - I’ll _love you_ \- for the rest of mine.”

After what had been done to him, Ephram wasn’t surprised to find his Freddie this emotionally frail – in the best of ways, in the ‘ _I never dreamed I’d be this loved_ ” way – and he wrapped Freddie up in his arms, carefully positioning him so that none of the extremely swollen and abused bits would be further rubbed raw.

Ephram himself was in a strange, deep headspace; he felt at once unbearably powerful and privileged to be in a position to enact this sort of brutal depravity on his poor sweet darling, and also looking forward to cuddling and nursing Freddie until he felt better again. But at the same time he wondered if he could coax Freddie to submit to even darker urges. He wondered if Freddie could be trained to return it in kind.

It was a dangerous path for Ephram to wander down, mentally, but after sorting through the aftermaths of a few other very intense sessions with his loving husband, Ephram had been prepared for their scattershot emotional come-down from the highs of sex.

“And just think, darling,” Ephram murmured, kissing Freddie’s pretty nose, his still-sweet mouth, before holding Freddie’s chin and turning his head slightly, pointing out the ensorcelled and tremendously efficient camera that was hovering near the ceiling. “You’ll be able to watch exactly what I did to you while I’m fucking you next time. I’m the best husband there ever was, right? Of course right. You’re welcome.”

With that, Ephram gave a jaw-cracking yawn, gathered his lover close, and fell fast asleep.

Freddie was too wrung-out - overwhelmed mentally, emotionally, physically - and down too deep, to do anything more now than allow himself to be drawn in closer; another small moan escaping as he settled again against his witch’s chest, unable to give any consideration at the moment to the conflict that the extremity of his submission might awaken in his husband.

The complexity of such a thing was simply too much for him to attempt, currently, when even Ephram’s kisses, and the reminder of the camera they’d installed, could barely elicit a response.

Instead, the fairy let out a huff of air that was nearly a chuckle when Ephram told him he was welcome, the ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes heavy, mumbling, “…hope my arse looks good… camera adds ten pounds…” before following his sweetheart into unconsciousness.

After all, there was a good chance - if his body behaved itself like he’d been working at, in spite of the present state of his mind - that he’d still be very sore tomorrow…

And hungry.

He would need the rest.


End file.
